


Three Words We Never Say

by nahco3



Series: Three Words [5]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-29
Updated: 2011-08-29
Packaged: 2017-10-23 05:39:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/246831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nahco3/pseuds/nahco3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Silva gets what he wants, but it's too late.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Words We Never Say

**Author's Note:**

> this was written in 2009, after I saw a quote of DV's where he said "A week ago my future was clear, and now it's not." so, right around the time Valencia started thinking about selling both Villa and Silva.

When Silva wakes up in the morning, there's a message waiting on his cell phone: "Hey, it's David. I'm back. Come by tonight." He sounds the same as he always has - terse and direct. Silva can't tell if the last sentence is meant to be a command or a question, so he replays the message, twice, a little bit disgusted with himself, before he erases it. He doesn't bother to call David back; command or question, David already knows Silva's answer.

That evening, Silva drives to David's house, rings the doorbell and waits, neither patient nor impatient. The door opens and there David is. Silva lets his eyes go wide and his mouth smile, reactions he has never bothered to hide. (David would have known, anyway.) David gestures him inside.

"I'm surprised you came," David says, as close to a lie as he's ever told Silva, so Silva laughs. David laughs too, lowers his head a little and his eyes soften. He reaches out his hand to cup Silva's jaw, and Silva watches him, quizzically, before David shakes his head almost savagely and walks away, disappointment and pride etched into him. Silva follows, and catches him on the shoulder.

David spins, and for a second Silva's almost afraid, because David's eyes are black as coal pits and his body is tensed, like he's about to walk out onto the pitch.

"Something wrong?" Silva asks, pushing more than he means to.

David meets Silva's eyes for a second, then let's his head hang down. His curses quietly, and his breathing is almost ragged, as if for all his coiled control he's about to collapse. He pulls himself against Silva and kisses his neck, almost pleadingly.

"I'm fine," he says, looking up, and just like that he is. Then: "I wish things with Barca were over, one way or the other."

"Do you care where you go?" Silva asks, dreading the answer, but he's old enough now to know the ache in his chest is his own fault, and David's hurt him enough that maybe this final cut will be a mercy.

David bites his lip. "Yes," is all he says, and behind his obsidian eyes Silva thinks he finally sees what he's wanted all along. He just didn't know it would be like this, that it would leave David both brittle and shattered, and him so tired.

They fuck in the guest room. David's hard-edged control disappears quickly and is replaced by something close to desperation, and Silva can't resist kissing his lips, his neck, his collar bones, whispering his name. He knows that David wants to revert to something more carelessly physical but can't bring himself to, knows that they will both regret this, but he can't stop himself any more than David can.

"I left Gijon," David says, quietly, afterward. Silva curls next to him and nods, understanding. He knows enough about David to know that he leaves the things he loves - unpaved roads and dusty pitches, his family, his home - that he prefers regret to the fighting pain of want. Where that leaves them Silva doesn't know anymore, other than in a maze of empty houses and hotel rooms, bruises and abandoned conversations.

"I'm sorry," Silva says.

"No, you're not." David tightens his arm around Silva and stares at the ceiling. He lets out a slow breath and his fingers absent-mindedly skim over Silva's skin.

"No," Silva agrees, "I'm not. But you are." Not questioning.

David looks at him - finally, after nearly three years, defeated, even if Silva takes no pride in it. He shuts his eyes and nods.


End file.
